


making an ass out of u and me

by verity



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom Derek, Bottom Derek Hale, Comeplay, Communication Failure, Consensual Kink, Established Relationship, Failwolf Friday, M/M, Rimming, Top Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 00:29:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/644564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verity/pseuds/verity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard to blame Derek for the fact that everything he says sounds insulting. The guy was raised by wolves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	making an ass out of u and me

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to fleete for IRL cheering and betaing!

Erica corners him at lunch the next day.

"Derek was being a total dick to you at the pack meeting," she says, sliding into the empty space next to him on the bench. "What the fuck did you do?"

Stiles chokes on his sandwich. "Excuse me?" he says when he can breathe again.

Erica jabs the yellow straw into her Capri Sun pouch. "He told you to turn around so he didn't have to look at your face."

"Oh yeah," Stiles says. "Right."

—

Half an hour before the pack meeting at the rebuilt Hale house, Stiles was in Derek's bedroom, dragging his nails down Derek's thighs while Derek knelt over him on the bed. "Come on me," he said. "You know want to, you want to mark me, you want to smell yourself on me, you want me to—" which was right when Derek came all over Stiles's chest and Stiles started laughing.

"What—" Derek looked confused, like he was trying to decide whether it was possible to be pissed off and blissed out at the same time. "What did I—?"

"No, no," Stiles said, wiping at his shoulder and giggling. "It's just—it tickled! I wasn't expecting that! And I think you got some on my chin, dude, way to go there."

Derek dragged one of his palms through the mess on Stiles's chest before smearing it down his cheek and along his jaw. " _Now_ there's some on your chin," he said.

"Gross," Stiles said appreciatively. His dick twitched, which was impressive given the torturously long blowjob he was still coming down from. "You like it, huh?"

Derek rubbed some come along his other cheekbone. "God, I'm never going to be able to look at you in public again."

—

A few weeks later, Stiles is lingering in the locker room after lacrosse, trying to find his car keys in the dread abyss that is his backpack. He isn't expecting Isaac to come out of the showers and loom over him. Isaac's loom has gotten pretty good; maybe he's been practicing.

"Is something wrong?" Stiles says, glancing up. Maybe there's a black hole in the bottom of his backpack that's eating things. At this point, Stiles wouldn't put it past the universe. Or Jansport.

Isaac's eyebrows draw together. "Whatever you're doing to Derek—cut it out."

Oh, there's a hole in the _lining_. "You know, Derek is perfectly capable of—"

"Look, I was there last night, I heard what Derek said to you," Isaac says. "He told you to stop telling him what to do, he doesn't have time for your bullshit."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "He didn't say 'bullshit.'"

"Same difference." Isaac pulls Stiles's keys out of his pocket and tosses them at Stiles. "Lay off."

"Yeah, sure, fine," Stiles says. "Message received."

—

What Derek actually said was, "Now is not the time," which, fair enough, except Stiles was right about the witches, fuck you very much.

"I told you so," Stiles said, later, after some intensive showering and disenchanting had gone down. "Believe me, I have very healthy boundaries when it comes to sexy times versus supernatural crisis management times, so maybe in the future you shouldn't write off my valuable insight as bedroom talk."

Derek sighed. "That's not what I—are you going to punish me?"

"No." Stiles sat down next to Derek on the bed and ruffled his hair. "That's not how it works. Were you listening to me at all?"

"I'm sorry," Derek said, looking down.

"I'm thinking that maybe you need some positive reinforcement, here," Stiles said. "Like, maybe what you need right now, since I'm mad at you and all, is for me to tie you up and rim you until you're about to come and then fuck you through it."

Derek was still staring at his hands, clasped in his lap, but his shoulders looked a little looser. "That doesn't sound like you're mad at me."

"Oh, I'm mad as hell." Gently, Stiles put his hand on Derek's arm. "That doesn't mean I'm going to hurt you. That's not the point. Just—listen to me next time, okay?"

After a moment, Derek smiled, tight, close-mouthed. "Is this supposed to be an incentive?"

"Well," Stiles said, letting his voice dip low. "If this is my idea of punishment, what do you think I'd do as a reward?"

—

Boyd's the only member of Derek's pack who actually voices concern.

They're standing on the outside of the ash circle Stiles closed a few minutes ago and waiting for Erica's signal to break it once she and Derek are done dealing with the rogue omega inside the building.

"Derek seems like he's giving you a tough time lately," Boyd says, scuffing his toe against the asphalt.

Stiles shrugs. Derek's been—well, they've all been on edge since this loser and his friend showed up in Beacon Hills and a rash of "mountain lion" attacks started happening again. Mostly, Derek's grown out of all that 'I'm the alpha now' crap, but when he's stressed out, his ability to deal with conflict or feelings or Scott eating the last of the string cheese is not at an all-time high. "I'm okay," Stiles says. "No big deal."

Boyd nods. "Just checking."

"Is this about—" Stiles clears this throat. "Last week? With the whole—"

"He was a little intense," Boyd says. "That's all I'm saying."

"It's cool," Stiles says, smiling at nothing.

—

"Why are you wearing my clothes?" Derek said. "Did I say you could do that?"

Stiles shot a look at the betas out of the corner of his eye. Boyd was flipping through a dog-eared copy of _Charlotte's Web_ , Isaac was staring at the TV, and Erica was staring at Stiles, sniffing the air. "That's not a flattering look on you, Erica," Stiles said.

"Fuck off," Erica said, but she turned around and grabbed the remote off the coffee table. Forcing everyone to watch _Toddlers and Tiaras_ at top volume was her favorite form of retribution.

"I got caught in the rain," Stiles said. "I didn't want to drip all over your precious hardwood, so I swiped a few things from your—your closet. That's all. My stuff's in the dryer."

"Come upstairs," Derek said. "I need to talk to you."

They'd never done this when anyone else was in the house, but the TV was on and, fuck it, Stiles was kind of beyond caring. Technically, he was still a month and a half shy of legal, but he wasn't worried about anyone outing them to his dad aside from Derek and Derek's guilty conscience.

Inside Derek's room, it was warm and dark, the curtains pulled shut. The rain was hammering against the windows, but they were double-pane, watertight; Stiles had done the weatherstripping himself. "You smell like me," Derek said. "Why do you—"

"I took everything out of your laundry hamper," Stiles said.

Derek laid down on top of the comforter, still in his jeans and t-shirt, and Stiles climbed on top of him, straddling Derek's hips. "You make me crazy," Derek said, tugging at the waistband of Stiles's borrowed track pants.

Stiles reached down to cup Derek through his jeans; he was already hard. "Yeah, I've picked up on that."

"You make me want to—" Derek inhaled sharply as Stiles yanked down the zipper. "I want to _keep_ you, it's not—and when you smell like me, you just—"

"I think I'm the one keeping you," Stiles said, running the base of his thumb up Derek's dick.

"Yeah," Derek said. "Okay."

—

Scott throws his backpack over one shoulder. They're in Derek's living room, post pack-plus-Scott-and-Stiles meeting. "You coming with me, dude?"

"No, I have to talk to Derek about some stuff," Stiles says, staying where he is, sprawled over the couch. "Go on, skedaddle."

"You sure?" Scott rocks back on his heels. "Derek's—Derek's kind of hard on you. I know that you—I hope you're not, just, shutting up because you think I'm going to jump ship at the first sign of assholery—"

"No, I'm good," Stiles says.

"Really?" Scott says, skeptical.

"Really," Stiles says, and then, louder, for Derek's benefit, "Really."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [ladyofthelog](http://ladyofthelog.tumblr.com) on tumblr.


End file.
